when atlas falls
by i-really-heichou
Summary: A mandate is issued forcing retirement amongst those that fought in the Last Battle against the Titans, along with a portion stating each soldier must acquire an android for therapeutic purposes. Levi, former captain of Survey Corps, is less than happy about his new companion.


Mikasa arrives at his doorstep at half-past eleven-expedited shipping, packaged in a recyclable cardboard box with a note taped to the flaps.

He recognizes the swoops and slants of the tasteful calligraphy in a matter of seconds, and tears the card off to read Armin's handwriting in proper light.

_Be smart._

As if he had any other choice. Levi's hand twitches, curling the ends of the high-quality stationary into a tight ball and shoving Armin's words towards the back of his mind and the deep corners of his pocket in a single act. While the blond's message is no longer affronting, the box, in a manner of speaking is. Levi's sock clad foot taps the side and nudges, tentatively at first.

The content inside rustles, metal parts and those alike clinking together and with one resigned sigh, Levi shoves the package inside with yet another kick to the side. It, they, she (Hange's voice trills in his ear with every passing pronoun) skids across the hardwood floor and stumbles to a sudden halt upon contact with his coffee table. Levi rests his weight against the doorframe, staring at the box with diluted antagonism. He'll call Sasha in the morning and get a base auction price. She will flip a shit over anything with a shine and gleam like metal.

He likes to think he requires very little. Tea on occasions when he can manage to locate it, a space to himself, and the government issued medication he takes out of the top kitchen drawer when he leaves his post by the door.

Levi snaps the lid open, withdraws a standard pink pill and presses it to the center of his tongue. Take a pill-down it dry and choke on the possibility that it may or may not ease the pressure that threatens to bend and crack his ribs. His hands flinch, craving the contact of a sponge or a rag to clean a stubborn stain that fails to leave his line of view. One, two, three times is a heartbeat stuttering in the cavity of Levi's chest, straining like a clock desperate to be wound up, but he is, was, always will be Humanity's Strongest and that means he must fake resiliency until he believes it. Like the turning of a page, the feeling that traps him a chokehold subsides, and his gaze once again falls across the box in the corner of the room.

Misery thrives in company, yet he could say the memories padding across his mind are unwelcome guests. Nevertheless, Levi pries himself from the kitchen counter and sets the box atop the coffee table, pocket knife in hand. The industry tape splits, lids pursed exhaling the putrid signature scent of burnt metal and synthetics. A sole, severed mechanical limb peeks out into view.

"All the money spent on this," he says to no one in particular, extracting the limbs laying them beside each other according to size, "-and you still have to put this shit together yourself." Levi's voice bounces off the four bare walls, the lack of response louder than ever.

Mikasa's exterior is ash gray, cold to the touch. Wires protrude from the plates on her body. Levi alters the angle of each metal piece prior to picking out the heavy-set manual resting at the bottom of the box. Splayed on the cover is a man cradling his impassive android with a superficial smile that threatens to split his altered expression. 'New Beginnings' is printed in thick, bold letters, 'A Guide to Understanding Your New Best Friend'.

He leaves the book where he found it.

"Where's the 'on' button?" Levi flips her torso, fingers trailing down the length of her back. Blunt nails scratch along the sharp angle of her shoulder blades, swooping up to scour for a switch in the empty socket at her neck. Levi breathes-once, twice, three times, coaxing a pulse that kindles the blood beneath his skin and reaches for the first piece he can find-an arm, presumably the left one hanging limply between his grasp. He twists Mikasa's arm within his calloused grasp, testing the joints, admiring the ports littered across her limb. Port A is scratched into the inner socket, shape and size identical to the gaping hole in the adjacent torso.

Levi moves to insert the arm into its respective place, turning until the arm tugs itself out of his grip under a magnetic force. Her torso immediately burns bright red when the limb fills in the whole, emitting a piercing ring that damn near shatters his eardrums. Levi's cursing competes with the sound as he yanks the part away and the over the top beeping ceases. He makes a clipped sound of distaste, coupled with, "You have got to be fucking kidding me." Levi cracks the manual open, snapping the spine and folding the book in his lap. Instructions of every kind take up the first ten pages, diagrams with lines jutting in each different direction. The sight is dizzying to the extent that he almost picks up the phone to call Hange or Erwin, yet he can't bargain what little patience he has for a lecture or two. He abandons the project long enough to dig around for his reading glasses.

He only attempts to start again when he stares at the same sentence in the manual for several minutes at hand. Tentatively, he inserts her right leg first under the guidance of the instructions, bracing himself for the sheer sound of rejection. Instead, Mikasa's torso brightens with a green color accompanied by a satisfactory jingle. Mikasa's mid-section hums with an electrical current, twitching after Levi attaches the remaining parts. The wires lining her exterior illuminate. He tightens the required screws and knobs, building without a sense of moral reservation, because Sina forbid he ever thinks about how selfish it is to forcibly cast the burden that haunts him on something-someone else. Eyes, once hollow, light up and Mikasa's whole stature begins to whirr the second he pushes the button at the crown of her head.

Mikasa sits up so that they are facing each other, legs crossed, lips parted as if to speak.

"Welcome to New Beginnings," she chimes with cordial clarity and elongated pauses. "I'm here to introduce you to our new journey together."

That is when she stutters, the light lilt in her tone marred by the tripping of her syllables. Mikasa starts and stops over and over again, like a scratched record struggling to play. The strained smile is still plastered on her face, but even he can see the subtle frustration in eyes that glow silver.

Levi gets up to leave after the tenth, 'Welcome to New Beginnings" dragging his feet towards the couch where he collapses with a hard thud. Sasha will be pleased to get the frame of a whole android despite whatever faulty vocal chords. She is always on the look out for spare parts for the pawn shop. Armin will be disappointed, but he expects too much from people like him who can no longer live to standards far beyond his reach. Jaeger will call to chastise him as if he is a child-well meaning yet slightly abrasive.

Levi presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth, hands folding into fists. His stomach rocks, bile inching up the back of his throat, and the mere thought of his squad spawns something poisonous in his chest. It is there dancing behind his lids, tattooed across his conscience, corpses and soldiers all the same-falling upon command. Memories exit just as quickly as come, scraping the air from his lungs and he is left to hear the drumming of his own pulse and Mikasa's repetitive speech.

"Levi."

She strains to say it, butchering what few syllables he has in his name. "Le-vi. Lest we forget those who are lost. Evermore trapped in the prisons of their minds. Victory grazed by a bloodstained caress . Inevitably, those that are dead are more divine."

Mikasa remains rigid in the same position, head tilted at an angle as if searching for approval. He sits up, mulling over her serrated words with a small bout of interest.

"If only it was that simple." Levi tips his head to the side, eyes bent under the weight of a smile that has lost its humor.


End file.
